Master And Series 5: Master And Ally
by shadowglove
Summary: Sequel to Master And Emissary. After the fall of Uther, Mercia finds itself home to those fleeing the new tyrant king, and Arthur strengthens his ties to the Mercian Court. Merlin knows that the worse is yet to come...and that someone is going to die.


Disclaimer: Don't own Merlin

Sequel to: Master And Emissary

A/N: I had written nearly half of this…and then my system crashed and I lost it…so here I am..starting all over again from scratch!

A/N2: Just in case you're interested, this series will PROBABLY have 3 or 4 more installments before it's finished.

Warning: Mentions of past dub-con.

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When news of Arthur finding refuge in Mercia reached the ears of those faithful to him in Camelot, the gates of Mercia found themselves opening to small groups of refugees who managed to escape from Camelot's tyranny. It wasn't easy, not with Ambrosius Aurelianus having his men erect a wall around the boundary of Camelot, with his best archers stationed at strategically placed towers. Merlin was impressed, for while the explanation being given was that they were being constructed for defensible reasons, the sorcerer knew that they were also being built to keep the people of Camelot inside as well. The proof was in the fact that less and less refugees were arriving, and usually only those who had a knight or two within their ranks were the ones who made it to the Mercian gates.

The people of Mercia integrated the Camelot refugees as best as they could, with King Bayard making sure that his wife's people had jobs and roofs over their heads. The ones that they could be sure they could trust, such as some of the servants who'd served Arthur's family in the castle, were given work in the Mercian castle. There were very few that were given tasks of true importance, as Mercians already worked in those positions, but the servants were happy to be busy. The Queen was happy to have her old companion returned to her, and the girl's father was a highly trained blacksmith so he too served his purpose.

Guinevere was probably the only servant who had any truly prestigious position as she'd once more become a part of the Queen's inner court, her faithful and most loyal companion. As the Queen tended to send Merlin messages through the girl he'd met and chatted with her on numerous occasions, finding he understood Queen Morgana's tenderness towards her. Merlin had looked into the girl's brown eyes and seen true goodness in there, knowing that she was probably one of the one people he knew who had a genuinely innocent soul and the purest of intentions. She was extremely sweet, very attentive, and while socially awkward he found he admired her. The girl was highly attractive both in her physical appearance and in her character.

Others he'd made sure to meet and mingle with were the knights of Camelot who'd managed to escape and were loyal to Arthur. They were few yet strong, skilled fighters who had a cause and a kingdom to fight for. They were warriors who didn't possess the brutality and viciousness of the Mercian warriors, and yet still managed to somehow impress. They'd formed Arthur's own personal Guard, and trained with him, Lancelot, and the Mercian Army.

As the Head Knight of Camelot, Arthur and his men had invaluable knowledge into not only the strong and weak parts of Camelot's castle and lands, but also of their fighting technique. His joint training sessions with Lancelot brought new insight, and the fact that Arthur had yet to be beaten in a fair fight by any Mercian soldier had earned him grudging respect amongst the men. He also carried himself in a way that commanded respect. He was growing up, becoming the king Merlin knew Uther had tried training him to be.

Arthur's surprising friendship with not only Lancelot but Sir Percival of Escetia had also helped further his cause and ingratiate himself with the people.

That wasn't to say that everyone had fallen for Arthur's charm, there were still Mordred's followers in court and those who still cherished the enmity Mercia and Camelot had upheld for so long. There were also those who merely thrived in creating and living through conflicts.

People like Sir Valiant.

Merlin sighed as he gazed down from his tower unto the training ground below, where Arthur and Lancelot could be seen engaged in a duel, both laughing and obviously enjoying their battle. There was a group surrounding the two, cheering on both sides, making bets, yet neither Lancelot nor Arthur was visibly better than the other, neither seemed close to a victory and neither seemed to care. The crowd watched intently and cheered, all enjoying the match, yet one observer didn't laugh and cheer or goad the two on.

Valiant.

The king's very distant kinsman stood apart, leaning against a column with his arms crossed over his chest, gazing at the two fights with narrowed eyes. He was obviously studying them, how they moved, how they blocked and parried. He studied the way they fought with shrewd eyes.

Merlin narrowed his own on the man.

Despite his very distant blood relations to King Bayard Merlin had never had the stomach for the man.

He'd found him crude and vicious, exaggeratively so. Even by Mercian standards Sir Valiant was known for his baser, darker vices and near inhumanity in battle. He caused troubles and was always in a fight with someone or the other, but he was related to Bayard and was also a highly skilled warrior unlike many, so he and his acts were tolerated.

Even so, Merlin knew to keep Sir Valiant on a short leash and keep an eye on him.

He _had_ tried to rape Arthur while the boy had been their prisoner…so this intense observation on the knight's part made alarm bells ring in the sorcerer's head. And it wasn't because he didn't believe Arthur could defend himself because he _could_, he was one of the best warriors Merlin had ever seen, but it didn't meant that the taller man ever wanted the young prince to ever be in that sort of situation again. And Valiant had his lackeys who did his bidding. He wasn't above using a disadvantage in numbers when it came to getting what he wanted. And he seemed to want Arthur. His eyes said it all.

Merlin bit the inside of his mouth to keep the growl from escaping.

A knock sounded below and he turned his attention to the magics which kept just anyone from entering, his eyebrow raising when he recognized the aura at the door. "Come in."

The magics let the Queen's companion open the door and enter into the tower, the young caramel skinned woman coming up the stairs, her cheeks rosy by the time she finally made it to the top and appeared before him.

"Grand Court Sorcerer." Guinevere gave a little curtsy before hurrying towards him, pulling out a sealed envelope from the pocket in her dress. "Mor-the Queen Morgana wished me to bring this to you and requests your answer."

Merlin received the note and opened the seal reading the message within, a small frown touching his features. "I see." He crushed the note in his hand and flames took the paper, destroying it before disappearing in a wisp of smoke. "Inform Her Highness the Queen that I accept."

To her credit Guinevere didn't question or even appear curious, only bobbing her head with a flash of her awkwardly adorable smile. "Yes Grand Court Sorcerer."

Merlin had the desire to tell her to refer to him by his name but if he did he already knew that not only would she become embarrassed and stammer, but word would get back to King Bayard and he'd have to listen to his king scold him about over-familiarizing himself with the 'help' and how such things didn't help him retain his standing and respect.

Guinevere caught sight of the men fighting down below and she hesitated, giving a little smile. "They're so impressive."

Merlin sent the girl a curious look before returning his attention to the two below, Arthur and Lancelot apparently far from tired and continuing to fight all over the training grounds. "I suppose they are."

The maid blushed and dipped into a curtsy. "I should be heading back to the Queen."

And with that she hurried away.

Merlin watched her go before returning his gaze down below in time to see Arthur send a quick glance up in his direction, and the grin on his expression when his orbs met Merlin's for a split second was smug satisfaction. And mischievousness. He'd known Merlin was watching the whole time.

The Grand Court Sorcerer shook his head, leaning his forehead against the glass as he continued to watch until Sir Percival interrupted the duel and called Arthur and Lancelot away (much to the disappointment of the onlookers).

Just before he disappeared from sight, Arthur sent Merlin a wink.

Merlin closed his eyes as he shook his head, and was unable to keep from smiling darkly.

Arthur was going to be the death of him.

The sorcerer turned away from the window and gazed at his tower, taking in the vastness inside. Magic had expanded the inside, giving him everything he needed and more so he could work in comfort. And it was a good thing too because these last couple of days it was rare for him to leave the tower. It was even worse from the war with Camelot because they were horribly outnumbered this time, and not only wasn't Merlin's baser instincts flaring in vengeance as before, but Ambrosius Aurelianus had an unknown sorcerer working for him who appeared quite powerful if he or she could so easily dispose of Nimueh, the High Priestess of the Old Religion.

It worried Merlin, as he wondered if maybe he wasn't the only sorcerer out there who had something less than humanly to draw magics from.

This was one of the reasons why he cloistered himself away in his tower, only venturing forth for the War Talks or when summoned by the Queen, who in her state of pregnancy couldn't venture up the multiple flights of steps towards his abode-or refused to. Many times he even found himself sleeping in the tower as well as by the time he was finished studying the various darker, older, much more questionable tomes he was hardly able to move much less make it down the stairs and towards his own chambers.

Another reason why he wasn't at his highest was because Mordred was still on his secret mission to find and recruit all the druids in Albion. Merlin hadn't been able to draw from him since his departure, and the servants and knights and noblemen who usually also willingly spent time in his chambers left him feeling less than satisfied. To try and make up for the amount of power he'd have to expand his circle of lovers, and to be truthful, for a long time now he'd been growing bored and unsatisfied with them. He'd stopped altogether, unable to truly even enjoy his dalliances with the willing men…especially when the true object of his desire was paraded before him daily.

It was torture to watch Arthur co-training the men with Lancelot. Sweat would cause his clothes to cling to his body, and made any part of his skin visible _glisten_. His body wasn't horribly over-muscular but it was muscled and tone, each muscle exquisitely defined and tempting.

Merlin had been able to deny just how truly he desired Arthur before, especially with his irregular visits, but having the young prince here now, becoming so very much a part of the Mercian castle…seeing him every single day…it was torture.

And then, if it wasn't his desire for Arthur which kept the youth in Merlin's thoughts, it was the fact that his magic had apparently bonded so much with the boy that it'd covered him from the inside. It truly had made him the 'golden prince' as Merlin thought of him as. It was a part of Arthur, and yet it was still a part of Merlin. It connected them in a way Merlin couldn't quite understand and that made him hesitate, made him weary.

It wasn't that this was the first time his magic was within someone else, to a much smaller degree his magic resided inside of the King, Queen, and Mordred to ensure he would know if another curse of any sort was placed on them…but that had been planned. Merlin hadn't been more shocked than when he'd searched Arthur for the Embalming Curse and found it only somehow managing to cling to life and never truly affect the human it'd been placed on because Merlin's magic was coating every bit of Arthur and keeping it from anchoring itself to the prince. The magic was everywhere, strong, potent, alive…and Merlin hadn't purposely put it there. That meant he'd either done so subconsciously…or his magic had done it on its own…and that thought was terrifying since the sorcerer couldn't think of why it would do that.

What was it about Arthur that made him so irresistible to both Merlin and apparently his magic?

Growling, Merlin banged his fist against the wall he leaned on.

There was a war which promised to be _horrific_ before him…he needed to concentrate on winning and less on Arthur.

Disgusted with himself, Merlin shook his head and pushed away from the wall, heading towards his desk and the tomes which awaited him there.

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In war numbers didn't win you the war but it helped, and Mercia only had Caerleon and Escetia as allies.

Northumbria was probably the only kingdom which had yet to decide on which side it found itself, but that was probably because neither side quite wanted it. Weren't sure they could trust it to fight solely for them. But that shouldn't be surprising considering that young King Simon had only ascended to the throne months previously by assassinating his own father. That wasn't an act that made one trust the man, and Merlin had to admit that the news had shocked him profoundly when he'd found out.

Northumbria had once been on friendly terms with Mercia before it'd cemented ties with Camelot during the previous war. Merlin and Bayard had gone courting its favor during the war with King Uther, and during that time Merlin had met the young Crown Prince, who had been a year or so older than Arthur at the time. Prince Simon hadn't seemed at contention with his father and appeared quite content with his position in court, not at all anxious for his father's death so he could take up the crown for himself. If anything the boy was a rogue playboy who enjoyed the delights the court had to offer him, both in male and female form, and was glad that he wasn't king so he wouldn't have to give up the carefree lifestyle he lived.

His was a life of decadence, of entertainment and sensual pleasures.

Merlin had quite enjoyed his time in Northumbria, King Bayard working on King Marcus while Merlin had been ordered to work on Prince Simon. He'd enjoyed his assignment, as cultivating a friendship with Simon meant exploring his world of lust and wantonness for the duration of their stay, something which the lust-demon side of him quite reveled in. The men and women of Northumbria were known for their beauty, and Merlin partook of their delights despite his preference for the male physique.

In the din of iniquity and vice, when the prince had reached for Merlin it'd seemed like natural progression for the warlock to later push him down and bury himself hilt-deep within the quivering, eager body. From that night till the one they'd left Prince Simon himself had been Merlin's main source of pleasure in Northumbria. The prince had even inquired whether the Mercian Court couldn't stay for a longer period of time when their time to return drew nearer, but they'd needed to return to their home as it'd been without king and sorcerer for too long already.

Considering all of this it'd come as a big surprise to them when Northumbria had instead cemented an alliance with Camelot.

Bayard hadn't seemed too disappointed though, and despite his never saying it, Merlin had always felt that his king was relieved that Northumbria had placed itself against them. The sorcerer knew that his king was worried about him, especially after they'd returned from Northumbria and Merlin had gone into a withdrawal of sorts. His demon side had enjoyed the life and pleasures it'd sampled daily, constantly, in the Northumbrian Court, and was reacting negatively to the tamer standards of the Mercian Court sexually. It was during that time of withdrawal that Bayard had been touring the dungeons and had ventured upon Sir Valiant trying to rape a beautiful young captive and had stopped the brutality before it could truly begin.

Till this day Merlin wasn't sure why exactly his King had thought it a good idea, but he'd decided the beautiful young soldier would be the answer to Merlin's problems, and had given him Arthur as his sex slave.

At first Merlin had been taken aback, confused, but his demon had surged forth, gleeful. He'd felt disgusted with himself, despite the fact that before he'd been able to penetrate the boy the resistance had stopped and the golden haired beauty had mewled in pleasure. He hadn't blamed the boy for the attempt to kill him that'd followed while he'd been sleeping. It'd started a routine between them. Merlin would assure himself that the boy was withering in pleasure and need before partaking of his body, and afterwards the slave boy would try and kill him…although later on the latter stopped altogether, his only rare attempts due to fascination as to how Merlin's magic worked even when he was sleeping or not even paying attention to him.

Bayard's plan had worked.

No longer was Merlin's demon side remembering the pleasures of the Northumbrian Court. No. It was thinking of Arthur, of different ways to force the stubborn boy to cry in pleasure, to beg for more, to curse him if he stopped a certain movement. Yes. That was what dominated Merlin's mind back in those days. How to make Arthur feel more pleasure, how to make him want Merlin just as much as Merlin wanted him.

He spoiled the boy rotten, let him get away with more than any other master would, and the boy knew it. It was obvious in the way that he thought he could boss Merlin around, in the way he usually _did_ boss Merlin. Ordering him to stop visiting Lancelot's chambers and partaking in his body had been the most obvious show of it. The boy had known he had some sort of power over Merlin, and it'd seemed to restore some sort of balance in his head. He was spoiled, bossy, moody, opinionated…and wonderfully possessive of Merlin.

He'd fascinated the sorcerer to no end.

He still did.

The door to the tower opened and closed, and someone hurried up the steps.

His magic only allowed instantaneous entrance to three people.

One was back in Caerleon readying things for the upcoming war.

The other was too old to take those steps that rapidly.

So it was of no surprise when Arthur appeared, apparently having bathed as he was in a change of clothes and did _not_ seem covered in sweat as he had the last time Merlin had spotted him.

The exiled prince carried a large tray filled with food as he strode towards Merlin, eyeing the table which was cluttered with old tomes and medallions and all sorts of magical artifacts. "A little help here, _Mer_lin."

Merlin waved his hand towards the table, not even looking up from the tome he was reading as the things in Arthur's way magically levitated and were sorted back onto the shelves and such where they belonged.

Arthur put down the tray on the now cleared table and walked towards Merlin, placing a smaller book down on it as a pageholder before closing the book unceremoniously. "You will do Mercia no good if you starve to death before the war even begins."

Merlin heaved a sigh, finally truly looking up at Arthur. "I'm going to start forbidding my magic to allow you instant access to this place."

Arthur flashed him a mischievous grin. "As _if_." Scoffing, the younger male snapped his fingers. "Up. You're going to the table and you're going to eat just like the rest of us mortals."

Rolling his eyes, Merlin couldn't keep his lips from twitching in amusement as he stood and obediently followed Arthur to the table, sitting down. "Happy now, master?"

Arthur snorted, sitting down much more elegantly, reaching for an apple and taking a bite out of it.

Allowing his lips to form the smile they were fighting for, Merlin chuckled as he shook his head and reached for his plate. "Arthur, you _do_ realize that I am _not_ six people, do you not?" He reached for his fork and poked at the food, which was almost overflowing his plate. "This is too much."

"You didn't have breakfast, _again_." Arthur swallowed his bite of apple, eyes displeased. "You need to keep up your strength, and since King Bayard and I are the only ones that your magic lets in and Bayard has other things to worry about, I assured him I'd make sure you didn't manage to kill yourself up here by either your clumsiness or your ability to forget the fact that you need things such as water and food to survive."

Merlin paused, surprised to find that his king and Arthur had had a conversation about him.

Sure, Arthur was quickly rising in King Bayard's regards, and yet, this was suspicious.

Especially considering King Bayard's track record when it came to his matchmaking attempts. Surely the king wouldn't be trying to-? Merlin's eyes narrowed as he reached for his own apple, taking a bite out of it as he eyed Arthur, who was eyeing him back with a smirk. King Bayard wouldn't be trying to somehow reunite them would he? But what about the Queen? She had made her desire for Merlin to take her brother as his sole lover more than obvious, and usually her husband would bend to her every desire. So the fact that King Bayard had apparently asked Arthur to basically take care of Merlin during this time…it was confusing.

"The cook is annoyed with you." Arthur changed the subject drastically as he finished his apple. "She believes that your skinniness is a personal affront against her cooking. I've been entrusted with the duty to sit here and make sure you eat every single thing she's put on the plate."

Even the cook was in on this?

Then again, if Millie the chambermaid and one of Merlin's many ears and eyes in the castle could be trusted, the cook was one of the servants who'd been charmed by the fairy tale romance half of the castle believed Arthur and he were living. The fact that Arthur was apparently making it a personal mission of his to talk and get to knows these people was also helping his cause, and if it wasn't for the fact that they knew Mercia was all Arthur had left Merlin would be worried that he was trying to start a coup.

"You know…I hadn't realized just how many of the Mercian knights have seen the inside of your chambers." Arthur changed the subject yet again as he took a knife and fork to the meat on his plate. "But I've been hearing them complaining about your disinterest of late, and they've mentioned some of the noblemen as well who haven't been called to your rooms. Those noblemen are all warriors in their own right." He paused. "You have a _type_."

Not sure what to say to that, Merlin took a knife and fork to his own plate.

"One thought it was maybe your way of manifesting that you were missing Mordred, but everyone quickly dismissed that because while Mordred was a favored he was never a sole lover and so it wouldn't make any sense for you to stop seeing them just because he was gone." There was a pause. "They're saying that since it is _unheard of_ for you to be without a lover that you must have found someone to be monogamous with, and from what I heard while the first and only time you've done that was with me, I am definitely not one of their suspects as they can tell you haven't touched me." There was an odd tension in that voice as Arthur commented, trying for nonchalance and yet not pulling it off. "I wonder how they could tell such a thing."

Merlin knew how, and he wondered if it'd do any good to explain the reason.

"_Mer_lin." Arthur raised an eyebrow. "I asked you a question."

"You didn't, actually." Merlin chewed on a potato and swallowed. "You wondered out loud, but never phrased it as a direct question aimed towards me."

Arthur raised that eyebrow higher. "Then, Merlin, how exactly can the people of Mercia tell if you've been with someone?"

Ah, yes, there was no getting out of this one, was there?

The sorcerer chewed and swallowed before raising his gaze to the silent prince. "Because, Little Prince, as you say, I have a 'type'."

Arthur watched him intently, nodding for the older man to continue.

"And the 'type' of man I am usually drawn to is usually very active." Merlin steepled his fingers, waiting for Arthur to get it, but the boy proved once more just how young and innocent he was despite everything he'd been through. "Arthur, you and I have been together before." That was putting it lightly. "Describe the morning after to me."

Surprise entered those blue orbs as they widened, and Arthur wiggled in his seat for a couple of seconds in obvious discomfort. "Who says I remember?"

Merlin watched the prince suddenly lose all his self-assuredness and it gave him an evil little thrill. "You do."

Arthur sent him a glare before taking in a deep breath. "From what I can remember…" he cleared his throat, gaze going to his food as he suddenly found cutting the meat utterly fascinating. "I remember waking up feeling warm, my body slack and muscles relaxed. Most of the times you were still there, snoring, and I'd snicker at you for that."

Oh, of course he'd remember something like _that_.

"I also remember laying there, watching you, and wondering how an utter idiot could be one of the most powerful people I knew." Arthur mumbled, unable to look at Merlin for some reason. "I would look at you and think it was ridiculous that I was your slave, you were supposed to be my enemy, and yet I'd never felt safer."

Merlin froze, eyes widening.

He'd never heard any of this before.

"I remember thinking of the night before, how I should feel dirty or hurt or scared or disgusted…but I never did. That was a big issue with me the first couple of times. Probably one of the reasons why I tried to kill you so much." Arthur admitted, moving on to cutting up the other things on his plate since he'd decimated the meat by now. "I'd remember the feeling of you within me, how I could still feel you. I'd be sore and my legs a bit wobbly and I wouldn't want to leave the bed. I'd relive the night, what you did, and I'd grow hard again, and I was never enough to achieve my own pleasure. It was you. Always you." His grip on his fork and knife tightened visibly. "And your marks would be all over my body. Either from your lips or your fingertips. I'd…I'd trace them, remembering exactly what you'd been doing when you made them…and I liked that. I like the reminder, the obvious sign that you'd held me the night before. And I wanted to do the same, so that when you left the room others would know that I'd left those marks on you. That the tired way in which you walked proved that you'd been inside me all night and it was a good thing I didn't have to go anywhere because I'd not only be covered in your possession marks but it'd be awkward to walk with me being so sore and..."

He suddenly froze.

Merlin was relieved beyond words that the exiled prince seemed to have gotten it because his own grip on his utensils was threatening to break them in half.

"And then I'd still feel your imprint inside me and miss it, miss you." Arthur's voice was low, nearly seductive. "And so I'd touch you, kiss you, run my tongue down your length to ready you. It didn't matter if you were awake or not, I needed you, needed you within me so badly that I thought I'd _die_."

Merlin dropped his utensils and grabbed the edge of the table, his breathing growing erratic as he tried to control himself.

"And then you'd wake up, and you'd smile this _happy_ smile that made my cock harder, and your hand would go to my hip to keep me close." Arthur's voice grew lower, hoarser. "You'd fuck up into me, your magic bathing over me, your hand around my cock…"

"_Arthur_!" Merlin snapped, his own voice lower and hoarse as well, his jaw clenched, his fingers burning marks into the wood of the table.

Arthur stopped yet watched him in silence, before those eyes widened as he suddenly realized something. "You haven't taken a lover."

A muscle jumped in Merlin's cheek as he refused to meet Arthur's enquiring gaze.

"You haven't taken a lover." Arthur's voice was shocked and awed as he repeated his discovery, a small smile brightening his countenance as he sent Merlin a look he couldn't meet.

Merlin figured there was no use denying or otherwise, as Arthur had once more seen right through him.

They ate the rest of the food in silence.

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"Who else knows about this?" Bayard asked, gazing down at the tome that was so ancient its language wasn't only faded nearly beyond legibility, but was in a dialect which only few still spoke. The king had studied this language from childhood, had taught it to Merlin during his infancy, and now they were two of the few remaining living people who could understand what the tome was telling them.

"No one else, Sire." Merlin replied, watching his king's ashen face. "As always I've made sure that this knowledge has been kept strictly between us. No one else knows about this, much less the significance."

"Good." Bayard nodded, bringing a hand to his heart, the muscles in his face spasming in betrayal of the pain he was experiencing.

Merlin watched his king with a frown, worried.

On top of that, he had other things to worry about.

He could feel the presence of the raven drawing closer, warning him that he was only prolonging the inevitable. Even now the Morrigan's messenger rested in a corner of the tower, a majestic black raven with eyes that belied its otherworldliness. The creature filled Merlin with despair and the feeling of impotence.

He'd felt the raven before, during the wars with Camelot, and yet never had he seen the creature so clearly or had the message delivered so strongly.

War and death was upon them.

"What I do not understand is how this has been able to remain a secret for so long." Bayard tore Merlin's thoughts from their dark path, returning them to the situation at hand. "How could this not have been discovered as yet?"

"Strong magics are at work here, Your Highness." Merlin reminded with a sigh. "Magics so strong they could be that of the gods."

Bayard looked up at that. "Has she come to you in another vision? Has she told you anything?"

Merlin flinched at the reminder of his mother. "No. Since her warning she has been unusually silent."

He'd been grateful for the moment's respite.

"Merlin, this could change everything." Bayard's gaze returned to the tome, his fingers tracing the drawing within. "This could be our salvation." He made his hand into a fist. "If anyone can find it, it will be you."

It both humbled and worried Merlin, the faith the King had in him.

What if he couldn't do this?

Or worse.

What if he _could_?

What did that say about his abilities?

About his humanity?

"I will need time to not only find the location, but also discover the protections that will no doubt be in place and a way to safely work around if not remove them." Merlin declared, having already anticipated his king's decision.

"Good, I will place more of the War Strategies on Lancelot, Sir Percival, and the Princeling. You must concentrate on this." Bayard poked the drawing once more. "Concentrate on _this_ Merlin. Never have we been so close."

"I know Sire."

Bayard smiled, patting Merlin's shoulder, his eyes sparkling and his ashen face regaining some color to it. "You make me proud, my boy."

The sorcerer smiled at his king. "Thank you."

"Come now, we must dine with the others tonight." Bayard motioned towards the stairs. "My Queen complains that with her dearest brother gone from the castle and with you hiding in this place she is left with little entertainment-wise during her meals. She seems entertained enough when she converses with Sir Percival and the Princeling about the training and such, but insists she will have you dine with us tonight or she will make my life unbearable."

Of course, Bayard delivered that with a fond smile on his face.

Merlin sighed, shaking his head, unable to keep the grin off his own.

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Dinner was an easy event to attend as mostly Arthur, Sir Percival, and King Bayard dominated the conversation. Queen Morgana indeed commented here and there, asked questions where need be and made suggestions. Merlin had merely to sit there and eat while listening to the conversation happening all around him. He mumbled things here and there when asked to comment on certain subjects, yet for the most of it he remained silent, unable to keep his thoughts from going to the tome in his tower and the information waiting for him there.

Could he do this?

Was he strong enough?

And if he was strong enough…did that mean his demon side was stronger than his humanity?

Questions like that haunted him throughout the meal and kept him from truly enjoying the cook's delicacy.

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"Why all of this secrecy?" Merlin wanted to know as he entered the Queen's chambers later that night, finding the very pregnant Queen lying on her bed, expression stoic. "Why is there something which you do not feel you are able to tell me when the king is present?" He'd spent part of the dinner wondering this, having thought that the Queen's invitation to dinner had had something to do with her request for him to meet her in her chambers after the castle had settled for the night.

The Queen motioned for him to come closer. "There's been no news of my brother for nigh a month now."

Merlin nodded as he drew closer, having known this.

"No more druids are coming to Mercia." She continued, face blank. "My brother could be in terrible danger."

"Or he could have found a group of druids whom he has had a harder time convincing to join our cause." Merlin replied as he finally reached the bed, staring down at the Queen's ashen face, the dark circles under her eyes. "Some of my magic resides in him, if anything were wrong I would feel it."

Unease and worry were rife in those eyes as she gazed up at him. "He has never been this far from my side for this long."

"He is _fine_, My Queen." Merlin sighed, understanding the reason now for this call. "You must not fret over him, it is not good for the child."

Her hand rested over her large stomach, caressing it tenderly, before sighing. "My King grows weaker, Merlin."

The Grand Court Sorcerer nodded, unable to deny this, unwilling to. "He has lived a long life, and the gods willing he will still have many good years before him until his spirit passes."

"How can he if there's this war in our future?" Her eyes flashed, haunted. "I've been unable to sleep the last couple of nights with the most horrific nightmares! Death is going to visit this castle, this land! Death is going to touch us all!"

"Have you not been taking my sleeping potions?" Merlin frowned, coming closer and resting his hand on her forehead, realizing she had somewhat of a fever. "I will call Cassius to come and see you, your temperature is too warm for comfort."

"_Merlin_." The Queen reached for his hand, held it tightly, her eyes searching his. "You know that I am not a woman of fears and yet I tremble at the thought of what is to befall us all."

"Have faith in your King." Merlin replied.

She gazed at him before nodding, looking away with a sigh. "What world will my child be born into?"

Merlin couldn't answer her, didn't know what to say. Instead, he changed the subject, eyes narrowed somewhat. "In your dreams, is there anything that recurs?"

The Queen frowned slightly before nodding. "A carrion crow."

The Grand Court Sorcerer hissed.

First the Morrigan appeared to him and now Badb Catha appeared to the Queen?

The meaning of this filled Merlin was great dread.

Where the Morrigan and Badb appeared, Macha could only follow…and the appearance of the third...

"Rest my Queen." Merlin tried to hide his own anxiety for her sake. "I will summon Cassius to come and give you something for your fever."

"I am no fool, Merlin. My mother is a druid and her blood flows through my veins." The Queen whispered, resting hard against her pillows, fingers caressing her stomach. "I know the meaning of Badb Catha's appearance."

He broke with his usual behavior and sat on the edge of her bed, placing his hand on her trembling one, pressing it softly against her stomach. "Leave the worrying to me, My Queen. You need only concentrate on giving my king a healthy son."

The Queen's gaze met his and she nodded.

He gave her hand another squeeze and stood, striding out of the Queen's Chambers in search of Cassius.

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"So…you _do_ have a lover."

Annoyed at himself for not having sensed Arthur's presence, and at his magic for not having warned him, Merlin kept his hand on his door's hand yet turned with his body towards the sound of the voice. In the darkness shadows merged and danced before finally Arthur was visible in the moonlight, wearing Camelot red and a sword at his side, obviously smart enough to know that although he was in an Ally's kingdom that it wasn't safe one moment. For anyone.

"I didn't realize you patrolled." Merlin commented, curious to see the prince at this time of night.

"Not officially, no. But I like to have a round of the castle for myself before going to bed." Arthur replied, eyeing him blankly, lips drawn. "One has to wonder who he is that you'd go to such trouble to keep his identity secret. Secret rendezvous in the dark of the night…returning to your room like a thief in the dark…and hedging the subject determinedly." Those eyes narrowed further, his lips tilting in a vicious smile. "Should Mordred be worried?"

"Considering he's out there risking his life for Mercia, I doubt he has time to be worried about what I'm doing." Merlin replied, keeping his hand on the doorknob, eyebrow raised.

"The mystery's killing me Merlin." That ugly, vicious smile was still formed on the prince's mouth as he came closer, nearly stalking. "Tell me who he is."

"And here I thought you were so convinced this evening that I had no lover." Merlin mumbled, eyeing the way Arthur's features sharpened for a second, darkness flashing over his eyes for a split second.

He knew that look oh so well, and while he'd seen hints of it he hadn't seen it so blatantly displayed until tonight.

It gave him a dark thrill.

There was a reason why he used to torture Arthur with Lancelot.

There was _nothing_ more glorious than a jealous Arthur Pendragon.

"Have a nightcap with me." Opening the door, Merlin paused in the doorway. "Unless you're still in the middle of your patrol."

For a second confusion filtered through his face before Arthur cleared his throat and nodded. "I'd like that."

Merlin entered and smirked as Arthur stalked in as if he owned the place. The warlock closed the door behind him and with a flash of gold the fire in the chimney blazed brighter, giving some light to the shadowed room. The table moved itself, positioning before the fire, as a bottle of ale and two tankards affixed themselves. The chairs wobbled to the table before righting themselves, and Merlin's cloak lifted from his shoulders, going to rest upon his designed location.

Arthur gazed around the room before heading to one of the chairs, lowering himself down on it with ease. "Lancelot only ever speaks about Cassius and Lucan."

Intrigued by this drastic change in topic, Merlin made his way towards the other seat and sat in a fluid motion, reaching for the ale. "They've wanted a child for a very long time. Lucan's been a blessing from the gods."

"Considering his appearance, I never would have imagined Lancelot as a family man." Arthur mumbled, grabbing his tankard of ale once he'd been served. "And for such a lifestyle to be so accepted in Mercia."

"To be fair, Camelot is one of the most prudish realms I have ever been to." Merlin took a sip of his tankard, gazing at the prince over its rim. "Many of the other realms are much more accepting of other lifestyles, although I will admit that Mercia and Northumbria are the most accepting."

"Right." Arthur scrunched up his nose in disgust. "_Northumbria_."

Amusement and intrigue curled in Merlin's stomach. "Considering that Northumbria was Camelot's ally…that was an interesting reaction."

"Let's just say that I never quite got along with _Prince Simon_…King now I suppose." Arthur sneered. "May the gods curse his reign forever. _No one_ should murder their own parent to be able to take the throne. It's dishonorable."

"I'm surprised you didn't get along with Simon." Merlin admitted, taking another sip of his ale. "You are around the same age." Also, he couldn't imagine that Simon wouldn't have tried something with the handsome prince.

"Age has nothing to do with it." Arthur appeared quite annoyed at the fact that Merlin believed he and Simon could have been friendly in any sort of way. "Prince Simon of Northumbria was a lazy, ambition-less _cretin_ who spent all his time in idleness. His lifestyle was a _disgrace_ to his father's court." Arthur's lip curled in derision. "Besides, he never made secret of the fact that he didn't approve of his father's alliance with us." Those blue eyes went to Merlin. "He told me once flat out that had he been king, he'd have sided with _Mercia_."

Ah…that mystery had finally been solved.

Merlin had _known_ that after his time with Simon that he'd managed to win the young prince to their side, so obviously King Bayard had sadly failed to do the same thing with the King.

Then again, Merlin doubted that Bayard had _pleased_ King Howard the way he'd pleased Prince Simon.

Although, if King Howard had ever showed any little bit of inclination towards a physical union Merlin was sure that King Bayard would have used it to his advantage.

Mercians did whatever they needed to do to win.

_Whatever_.

"I'm surprised, considering this, that he hasn't come to ally Northumbria with Mercia now that he's king." Arthur sneered, finishing his tankard and reaching for the pitcher of ale, refilling it.

Merlin chuckled at that, shaking his head. "Only a _fool_ would align themselves with us now, and Simon is _no _fool, despite the appearance he might give off."

Arthur frowned as he put back down the pitcher. "Do you know him well?"

Merlin nodded, still savoring his first tankard, taking his sweet time.

A muscle jumped in Arthur's cheek as eyes narrowed in suspicion. "How well?"

Merlin's only answer to was take a larger gulp.

Arthur slammed his tankard down. "You have absolutely _no_ taste."

"Arthur," Merlin finally finished his tankard and rested it soundlessly on the table. "That was before I even knew you." He rested his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers as his gaze went to the young prince. "And while I will not deny that I greatly enjoyed my time in Northumbria…it was all to secure an alliance."

Surprise rippled over Arthur's expression before he cleared his throat and looked away. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I've never been able to handle seeing you pout." Merlin admitted, unable to keep an amused smile off his lips as he did so.

"Who's pouting?" Arthur grumbled, blushing slightly as he glared at Merlin.

And yet there was absolutely no heat behind the gesture.

It was times like these that reminded Merlin that Arthur was still quite young, and he should stop teasing the boy so much, should take some pity on him…especially after everything he'd been through these last couple of months.

"Arthur," Merlin's gaze lowered to his drink as he sighed, before raising it to meet the prince's. "What do you want?" His finger trailed the rim of his tankard. "You bring me food, you-." He'd paused because Arthur had suddenly stood. "What do you expect to get out of all of this?" Merlin tilted his head, continuing to trace his fingertip around the tankard's rim as his gaze met Arthur's head-on.

Arthur's every movement was languid as he came to stand before Merlin, expression a mixture of defiance and determination with a hint of arousal as with a fluid movement he'd straddled Merlin's lap and captured his lips hungrily. His fingers slid through Merlin's hair, grabbing purchase as he took the kiss deeper.

Merlin lasted a whole two seconds before his hands found purchase on Arthur's lean hips, grounding his body to him as he kissed back with just as much fervor. He tasted Arthur's mouth, greedily swallowing the younger man's groan as his grip tightened on those hips. There'd never been much control when it came to being close to Arthur, and Merlin had been wanting for oh so long that he didn't even try to fight it as he hardened, the scent of Arthur in his nostrils and fueling his lust.

"What do I want?" Arthur hissed against Merlin's lips as he bucked his hips.

Merlin snarled, tightening his grip as the movement brushed his hard on.

"How about your cock?" Arthur nibbled on Merlin's bottom lip, teasing with his teeth.

Merlin thrusted upwards at that, brushing against the cleft of that ass that tempted and taunted him, cursing the layers of material between them.

"How about your _hand_?" Arthur slid one hand free from Merlin's hair, bringing it to Merlin's on his hips.

Those fingertips traced over knuckles, and Merlin couldn't help but obey their call, relinquishing his hold on Arthur to slide his hand over the prince's.

Fingers laced tightly as Arthur's thumb caressed Merlin's skin.

Arthur finally released his hold on Merlin's hair, guiding the warlock's other hand to his hardness, groaning at the contact.

Merlin felt a growl echoing in his own throat before gold flashed and his fingers closed around warm, throbbing steel.

A slight yelp escaped Arthur at the unexpected skin-on-skin contact, the golden prince arching his back into the touch, his cock giving a pleased jerk.

"What more do you want?" Merlin hardly recognized the raspy growl as his own.

He was too distracted with the sight of Arthur sitting astride him, back arched, eyes closed, lips parted as a flush of pleasure crept up his neck. The breathy, pleasured sounds the prince made sent dark satisfaction down his spine as Merlin refused to look away, soaking in the view. His tongue wet his parched lips as his thumb teased Arthur's wet slit, his hunger growing as that gorgeous cock weeped for him, for his touch.

A sharp twist had Arthur letting out a sound like an animal that sent Merlin's blood boiling with need.

He wanted to be hilt deep inside the prince, wanted to feel Arthur's warm body encasing him, wanted to hear the blonde making those wanton noises with him buried deep inside.

Arthur's heavy-lidded eyes opened and he stared down intently into Merlin's face as he bucked, moving his hips. The friction was heaven sent yet agonizing as well.

Merlin could feel his magic inside of Arthur for the first time without searching for it, could feel it heating, caressing, enveloping. It worshipped Arthur's body, wrapping around him protectively and yet possessively, heightening the boys sensibility to the point that just a breeze caused him to shiver and hiss in need.

"I-I-I-_want_…!" Arthur cried as he tightened his grip on Merlin, the magic tracing around his rim teasingly.

"Yeah?" Merlin whispered, the friction and Arthur's desperate need sending him closer and closer to the brink. "What do you want?" He moved his hand faster, feeling Arthur's need just as urgent as his own, his release just as close. "Tell me."

Arthur's gaze darkened as his body trembled, so close, on the verge…

Merlin hurried his pace.

"I…want…" Arthur clenched his jaw as he fought the pleasure racing through him, fought being dragged to the edge. "Damn!" He reached out and grabbed Merlin's hair in a tight hold. "I want back what's _mine_." And with that he leaned in and bit down _hard_ on Merlin's neck, breaking skin and tasting blood as he came, muffling the sound of his climax.

There was nothing to muffle Merlin's own completion as the pain pushed him passed the breaking point, his grip tightening on Arthur as he came in his breeches like some randy boy.

Arthur was draped over him, teeth still embedded in his skin, his tongue lapping at the sting.

Merlin closed his eyes, breathing heavily, finding his arm wrapping around the younger man and drawing him closer, his other hand hanging loosely at his side, covered in Arthur's pleasure.

He didn't know how long they stayed like that, their hearts racing, but finally Arthur unclenched his jaw, releasing Merlin's neck.

"Whoever he is, end things." Arthur ordered softly yet firmly into his neck. "I will _not_ share you. Not with anyone. You're _mine_."

"Arthur…"

"Shut up." Arthur interrupted, shaking his head with a growl that made Merlin somewhat hard once again. "I don't _care_ if you're pledged to Bayard. You're still _mine_ and I'm _done_ letting you and everyone else forget that. I'm _done_ with sharing you…with letting _someone else_ touch you." The grip he had on Merlin's hair tightened. "Bayard _gave_ me to you, and from what I know of Mercian law, once given _not even the king_ can take back a gift."

That was…true.

"He made you my master. He made you _mine_." Arthur's voice was low. "And I'm keeping you."

Merlin didn't know what to say, couldn't find the words, so he just tightened his grip on the prince.

He could feel Arthur smiling against his skin.

"Don't go against me, Merlin. You won't like the consequences." Arthur promised darkly as he began to move against Merlin once more, bringing him to half-mast. "I'll kill whoever thinks he can have you. I don't care _who_ it is."

It was that moment, as Arthur promised cold-blooded murder, that Merlin realized that the young prince was growing up, and acting quite the Mercian.

A knock sounded on the door.

Arthur growled, stiffening. "Is that _him_?"

Who?

And then Merlin remembered the so-called lover Arthur believed he had.

The knock sounded again. "Merlin."

The sorcerer looked up at that, frowning. "Cassius."

If the Court Physician had come to his chambers, it was important.

Arthur lifted himself from Merlin, fixing his decency before going to the door and opening it, a smug smile on his face as he leaned in the doorway. "Hey Cass."

Cassius seemed shocked for a second, and then a mischievous smile took over his expression. "Arthur. Imagine finding you in Merlin's quarters of all places at this time of the night."

"I know." Arthur continued to smirk. "What were the chances?"

"Indeed." Cassius agreed.

Merlin stood, trying in vain to fix his hair and his tunic so that the bite mark wasn't so obvious.

From Cassius' and Arthur's expressions he obviously failed.

"I assume you have a reason for this late visit?" Not to be unfriendly or anything, but things had been decidedly looking up seconds ago and he could still feel the discomfort due to his further desire.

Cassius' smile fell and his expression grew serious. "It's the Queen."

"Morgana?" Arthur's expression was serious immediately as well. "What about her?"

"Come inside." Merlin ordered, and when Cassius did, he closed the door, his magic making it impossible for what was being said to be overheard.

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The Queen was growing weak. It wasn't anything drastic, yet Cassius was sure that the Embalming Curse, her pregnancy, and the stress she was going through worrying about the war and her brother's safety were affecting her negatively. With the pregnancy she'd already had problems keeping her food, and the worry had her consuming less food than she needed. She was also tired, and the nightmares didn't help any. Considering that she and her baby had been affected by the Embalming Curse and thus both of their bodies would be tired and still trying to heal, well, it was a recipe for disaster.

They decided that for now, since things weren't urgent, they'd keep the King in the dark. His own health had been suffering lately and they didn't want the worry they knew he'd feel to deteriorate his own condition.

Merlin hoped to the gods that nothing happened to the Queen though, because his King would never forgive him for keeping her condition a secret from him.

He pushed those thoughts out of his mind the next couple of days by secluding himself in his tower, studying up the various tomes regarding his king's quest, and receiving daily updates on the Queen's health via Cassius or Gwen. And, of course, Arthur would bring him food whenever he was finished with training or his other duties, and made sure Merlin both consumed the food and knew that the cook was keeping a close eye on him.

While they only ate and spoke, Merlin knew that something had definitely changed between him and Arthur.

Arthur had staked his claim and was assured in his ownership.

Merlin…he decided to concentrate on the vital mission he was on and enjoy his meals with Arthur. The prince had said his peace and Merlin hadn't denied or rejected the claims, which said more than anything else he could say. They both knew that.

It was probably why, despite everything going on around them, Arthur was in an annoyingly smug mood the rest of the week.

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"I hear the princeling is experiencing contention from Mordred's admirers here in court." Bayard announced on one of his ever rare growing visits to the tower, gazing at the potion Merlin concocted.

Merlin looked up for a moment before returning his attention to the vial in his hands, filling it with the bright purple liquid. "It is to be expected."

"He is proving himself to be curbing his own arrogance and temper, I am somewhat impressed." The king declared, passing Merlin the cork.

"He still has them, but he's learnt to be a diplomat, to be wiser in his words and mannerisms." Merlin placed the cork in the lid, carefully lowering the vial in its resting place. "He is growing into his manhood."

"The Queen worries about her brother."

Merlin didn't need to ask which was being referred to. "Mordred is capable."

"He is also like her child to her." Bayard reminded. "She loves him dearly and being apart from him this long-have you not noticed how pale she's become of late?"

Merlin couldn't look his king in the face. "She is with child, my lord, it is to be expected."

He nodded, trusting his Grand Court Sorcerer. "What news do you have on your project?"

"I am encountering some difficulties, yet nothing that I haven't anticipated and know how to handle."

Bayard smiled as he patted Merlin's shoulder. "Lucky is the man who call you friend."

The obvious tenderness the king had towards him always touched Merlin, and he smiled. "Lucky am I to call you king. May you live forever."

Chuckling, Bayard nodded. "And enjoy fathering many children more!"

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_He only realized that he'd fallen asleep studying the oldest of the tomes when he saw her._

_Unlike usual she wasn't surrounded by lust-crazed creatures and humans, sitting half-naked upon her throne. No. Instead of the pomp and temptation she laid on a large, thankfully empty, scarlet-covered bed. Her dress was nearly translucent yet the dimness of the room helped hide her decency. Her eyes stared at him, lacking the twinkle of devilish enjoyment, instead the sheen in them, reflected by the candlelight, was somber._

_This atmosphere left him more uncomfortable than the usual one._

_"You won't be allowed to complete this quest, not for your human king." She declared, proving that somehow, like always, she still knew things about him which he wished she didn't. "You have the power, but he is not worthy of the quest."_

_Usually he was able to keep his silence easily, and yet after having broken it the last time it was apparently harder to keep his peace._

_"Your golden prince, he _**_emanates_**_ need. I've been distracted with the hunger surrounding him." She rolled to the side and slipped off the bed, leaning her hip against a post. "How do _**_you_**_ manage to keep control of yourself around him? Surely you scent how _**_ripe_**_ he is."_

_"Stay away from him." Merlin snarled, once more losing his battle._

_Her lips twitched. "I know better than to play with my son's favored little toy." Her smile evaporated though as she raised her chin. "He's been dreaming of blood-covered horses."_

_Merlin took in a deep breath, having known this would happen sometime soon, though he'd hoped they'd have a little more time. "Finally Macha shows herself."_

_"Usually I'd be surprised that someone without any magic of his own could be in-tune enough to catch little glimpses and omens such as that…but then considering that your magic has claimed him and is permanently anchored within I believe it's _**_that_**_ which is allowing him to see those glimpses." She slowly sashayed closer, hips swaying seductively with each move. "Take him and come here, be safe. It isn't your time."_

_"I will _**_not_**_ leave my king or his people, not when they need me the most." Merlin raised his chin, trying not to prove how shocked he was with the revelation that his magic's stay within Arthur was apparently something permanent. "And I know that Arthur wouldn't leave either if he had a choice in the matter. It's _**_his_**_ kingdom which is held hostage. _**_His_**_ people who need to be saved, liberated. _**_His_**_ family who need to be avenged." His eyes narrowed. "I can understand the need to avenge the loss of one's parents."_

_Her eyes flashed gold so similar to his as she understood his meaning._

_His own eyes flashed gold._

_"Fool." Her voice was hoarse. "The Morrigna has announced their presence. You know what this means." The candles lighting the room roared with her displeasure. "Your only option is to bring your prince and come here. I will _**_not_**_ let perish you because your father and his _**_human_**_ trained you to be a weak fool!"_

_"They taught me to have a conscience, to do what was right, to help others. To put them before myself."_

_She hissed at that. "They taught you how to _**_die_**_."_

_"Is there a reason why you've invaded my slumber this time? Because I have a war to win."_

_"Mark my words my son," she shook her head. "This moment of respite is merely the calm before the storm. Camelot and its many enemies will rain down you like locusts, will pick the skin from your very bones. No amount of faith in your human king will change that. He will _**_never_**_ unite Albion. No mortal man is destined for that honor." She began backing away, the candlelight dimming once more, causing shadows to cover her face and hide her expression from him. "If you're foolish enough to wish to remain, sate yourself Emrys. You'll need your strength if you are to survive what is ahead of you."_

_And with that, he awoke._

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It was the sound of voices that stopped him in his tracks before he turned the corner late at night as he made his way towards his bedroom.

Not only was it odd to hear talking this late at night, but he recognized the voices, and that was why he leaned against the wall and listened.

"Everyone can see it." The first voice declared, somewhat smug, sticky like honey yet far from sweet. "The Grand Court Sorcerer doesn't favor you anymore. Not even now that his little druid is gone has he invited you to his chambers."

"This is none of your concern, _Valiant_." Arthur declared darkly, making the name sound like an ugly slur. "And I'd remind you to _know your place_."

"You seem to forget that I'm the king's kinsman." Valiant announced, a sneer obvious in his tone. "I am the wrong person to have as an enemy…but if you should please me I could be a _very_ good ally to have in this court. Everyone knows that you're not exactly _welcomed_ by the Queen, and it would seem that her beloved little druid brother, _your_ brother, has stolen the Grand Court Sorcerer's favor from you." He chuckled. "You'd be smart to court favors from the inner court. You need all the support you can get."

There was the sound of a smack.

"If you try to place your hand on me again I will_ break_ it." Arthur's voice was low and deadly. "I am not a scared, starved prisoner who you can order to be pinned down anymore. Don't forget that Valiant. I didn't accept your advances then and I sure as _hell_ don't accept them now."

"You need to be knocked off of your high horse. You're not some golden prince anymore. You're a homeless orphan who has to depend on the good graces of a sister who you've done _nothing_ to ingratiate in the past. Your lover is enthralled with your brother, who is a _much_ more appropriate and accepted partner for him." Valiant's voice was fierce and bitter. "You're lucky you're pretty or you wouldn't even be _worth_ my attention."

"Take your disgusting, nauseating attention elsewhere." Arthur hissed back. "Not even if it were to _save my life_ would I ever allow myself to be touched by you. Just breathing the same air as you makes my stomach sick."

"You damned-!"

There was a violent scuffle.

Merlin remained where he was, staring at the ceiling.

A cry of pain echoed throughout the otherwise silent halls as a body was slammed hard against the wall, struggling yet unable to break free and unable to keep the unwilling whimpers of pain from emerging.

"Listen to me, and listen _very well_." Arthur's voice was darkness and blood, a hiss so low Merlin had to strain to hear it. "I will _never_, in _any_ form, be touched or even vaguely _associated_ with you."

"You fucking-!"

And then the sound of a head being slammed into the wall echoed throughout the hallways, accompanied by a muted cry of agony.

"I told you I'd break your hand if you touched me again, and the only reason I haven't gone through with the threat is out of respect to your kinsmanship the king. Also, despite the fact that you're a filthy swine you're also a strong warrior and he needs your sword in the upcoming battle." Arthur snarled. "But cross me again, and you will not find me as merciful as I've been tonight."

"You stupid _ingrate_!" Valiant cried out in agony. "You're going to regret this! I swear it to you."

Arthur snorted before footsteps could be heard walking away.

Valiant cursed viciously before walking passed Merlin, never noticing him in the shadows and he cradled his bleeding forehead, hurrying away.

Merlin frowned as he listened to the vicious promises the sadistic man was uttering.

While he knew that Arthur could take care of himself, and knew it was best if Arthur himself stood up to Valiant and proved that he was strong…he had a _very_ bad feeling about this.

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It helped soothe his bruised ego when he was able to slip into Arthur's room without the exiled prince noticing. Far too often lately the young blonde had been the one surprising Merlin with his unexpected appearances. Also, it gave Merlin the ability to watch Arthur as the younger male swung his sword as he practiced by himself in his spacious room. Tension rose from the warrior in nearly visible waves as he took out all his frustration with Valiant on his imaginary target. It'd obviously taken a lot from the prince to keep form giving into temptation and breaking Valiant's wrist, and Merlin commended him for that show of self-control.

But while Valiant's pride would assure that he wouldn't tell a soul of what had happened tonight and who'd given him his head injury, Merlin knew that Arthur had made a very powerful, very sadistic enemy tonight, and that worried him. It wasn't that Valiant had much of a sway with the King, Bayard quite detested the man and his dark vices, but he had his minions and his followers. He also knew the castle and the people better than Arthur. Valiant wasn't a man one wanted as an enemy.

And hatred born from spurned lust could be the bitterest of things.

With a swing of Arthur's sharp blade, the petals of flowers in a vase were sliced off with expert precision.

Eyes flashed gold, and the flowers reassembled themselves.

Arthur turned immediately towards the door, eyes wide. "Merlin."

"Have you been dreaming of blood-covered horses?" It probably wasn't the subtlest way of getting the information needed, but Merlin had never had to beat around the bushes with Arthur before and didn't expect to start now.

For a second surprised crossed his features before Arthur trained them to amusement. "Have you been sneaking into my dreams?"

"I'm being serious Arthur. Have you or haven't you?"

Arthur's amusement melted into concern. "Yes. Why?"

It meant his mother hadn't been lying to him.

She'd warned him.

Again.

It left Merlin with mixed feelings.

But he pushed them to the side, realization hitting hard.

Queen Morgana and Arthur were dreaming of two thirds of the Morrigna while he himself dreamt of the third. Queen Morgana and Arthur both had his magic, no matter how much of it, residing in them. Queen Morgana and Arthur were each getting pieces of a message meant for him. Mordred was probably receiving another piece of the message but Merlin wouldn't know what it was until the boy came back, and even then it might be too late. And to be truthful, Merlin didn't need Mordred's side of the message to understand it in a whole.

He knew what the Morrigna symbolized.

He knew what the message was.

He knew why his mother was so insistent in his dreams.

"Merlin?" Arthur took a worried step towards him, resting his sword against the bedpost. "What is it?"

Merlin stared at Arthur, soaking in his sight, the hunger he'd always had towards the prince surging forth nearly violently.

One step, two step, three…and then Merlin was before his prince and had cupped his jaw, staring into those confused and worried blues. He could hear Arthur's heart beating rapidly at his touch, could feel the golden youth's temperature rising, could see the way his pupils dilated. He was drunk in Arthur's reactions, in _him_, and there wasn't even a hint of fight in him as he brought his lips to Arthur's hungrily, refusing to deny himself their taste any longer.

Confusion was ripe in Arthur and yet he didn't question this sudden change, reaching for Merlin's tunic and tightening his hold on it, bringing Merlin closer as the kiss deepened.

Every pore in Merlin's body was alive, every nerve-end sensitive, his magic crackling around them visibly as one hand cupped the back of Arthur's head, fingers digging deep into that silky hair, holding Arthur captive. His other hand slowly trailed between their bodies till he cupped Arthur over the material of his trousers, swallowing the younger boy's groan of pleasure as his hand slowly worked over the already hardening member.

Arthur's tongue met Merlin's as he rolled his hips into his touch, hands already working on removing Merlin's tunic.

With a flash of gold Merlin connected with the magic inside of Arthur feeding it, making it come alive.

Emitting a choked cry, Arthur stumbled backwards two steps before his back hit one of his bedposts, his body trembling.

Consuming the sound, wanting to repossess all that had once been his, Merlin pressed the prince against the post, positioning himself so that his hard-on found contact with that thigh. The contact, just knowing that it was Arthur, made Merlin buck against him and smile into the kiss when Arthur's cry was a beg. Letting go of Arthur's need, Merlin chuckled at the growl/groan that escaped his young prince, which was immediately mutated into a mewl at the twist of his hips and the first buck against him. Their cocks brushed against each other, sending jolts of desire and need down their spines. Goosebumps manifested on Arthur's arms as he tore Merlin's tunic in frustration, unable to properly remove the tunic in his pleasure-ladden, impatient state.

Arthur tore his lips from Merlin's his eyes wild as he stared into the sorcerer's eyes. "Did you end things with your lover?"

Annoyed at the realization that Arthur was still coherent enough to _think_, Merlin wondered if he'd somehow lost his touch as he fell to his knees, running his long over that pulsing member through the material of Arthur's trouser.

"Oh gods!" Arthur clutched at the post behind him as Merlin deftly freed him, the trouser flooding down to the ground around his feet.

Merlin stared at the weeping head of the throbbing, needy cock, his magic surging and the magic within Arthur corresponding.

The young prince cried out as his cock weeped further in pleasure, the head rosy red, beckoning.

Pressing a kiss to that head, Merlin let his tongue swipe the slit, biting back a curse at the taste of Arthur. He'd missed it so much it shocked him. His magic rejoiced, his body ached, his hunger demanded...and Merlin wasn't of the mind to refuse and deny his instincts anymore. With his hands he pressed Arthur's hips back against the post, keeping him pinned as he pressed kisses to the young prince's quivering cock, returning to its head and paying homage. He nibbled softly, sucked the skin, left his marks of possession all over the shaft. He easily ignored Arthur's words, whatever they were, as he journeyed down the underside of the golden youth's shaft, making his way to his balls.

As his mouth teased those balls, his magic sliding over the quivering cock, Merlin removed one hand from Arthur's hip and his eyes flashed gold.

"Merlin dammit!" Arthur snarled, voice hoarse pleasure. "I am serious! I will not allow you to have anyone else!"

That possessiveness caused Merlin to smile as he slowly nibbled his way back up under Arthur's shaft, his fingers finding their way between the prince's legs. His finger circled the puckered star teasingly, pressing in slightly and chuckling darkly when Arthur's cock jumped.

"I'll kill him Merlin." Arthur promised darkly, staring down at him as his hips moved almost as if without his knowledge. "So if you value him at all, you'll never see him again, whoever he may be."

The older man thrust his middle finger knuckle-deep without warning, relishing the cry that escaped Arthur's lips, adding another finger and scissoring deep inside of him. "I don't think you're in the position to demand anything, Little Prince."

It might be evil, but an angry, growling Arthur made him harder than he could ever be with anyone else.

"You might snarl and spit fire, might threaten and claw, but you're desperate for me." He pressed hungry kisses to Arthur's inner thigh, speaking against his skin as he fucked his fingers into the tight, warm chamber his cock would soon be buried in. "Feel how you draw my fingers in as deep as you can, how you tighten around them. You know that no one can fill you like me...that your ass was made for my cock and mine alone." He bite down on that thigh, giving a harsher thrust of his fingers. "No one else will ever be able to satisfy you the way I do and you know it."

"And no one will ever satisfy you like _I _do." Arthur fought back as in a surprising move he'd raised his foot and used it to kick Merlin back, causing the unsuspecting wizard to fall backwards on the floor, his fingers yanked out of the prince harshly.

Laying on the ground, Merlin slowly rested his weight on his elbows as he watched Arthur stepping out of his trousers and reaching down to tug Merlin's away.

He wasn't used to this level of violence from Arthur, and yet his cock hurt from need and want, quite pleased with this curious change.

"You're a damn _whore_, fucking everyone in damn Albion!" Arthur snapped as he yanked the trousers clean away, eyes furious blue. "Even my own brother Merlin. _My brother_." He stood with feet on either side of the sorcerer before lowering to his knees, straddling him. "But _I_ am the only one who can truly satisfy you, and no matter how much you try to deny it, you'll never be able to hide the way your body reacts to me."

Merlin was breathless, eyes wide as Arthur reached behind him to grab Merlin's cock, aligning it with his hole.

"You are _mine_," Arthur slowly lowered himself on Merlin, face a mixture of pain and pleasure. "And by the gods you will start _acting_ like it!"

Despite the fact that he was the one with the magic, Merlin felt spellbound by the golden, defiant prince.

Finally lowering himself so that he was filled to the hilt, Arthur arched his back, blue gaze glazed with pleasure before they fell to Merlin and he began to slowly, pushing up with his knees and riding Merlin. He rose till the sorcerer was nearly freed from his heat, only to plunge back down to his fill. His gaze never left Merlin's, pleasured and defiant, the wizard's magic not only lubricating but softening muscles to avoid as much pain as possible. It was one of the reasons why Arthur could move with reckless abandonment over his lover, nothing but bone-tingling pleasure raising up his spine and curling his toes.

While Merlin was used to this confidence and take-charge attitude from Arthur in normal day-to-day actions he was shocked and seduced to find his little prince applying the same savage determination to their love-making, treating it as he would a duel with an opposing knight. Arthur's gaze never left his, challenging, defiant. His back was arched exquisitely as he leaned back slightly, palm behind him on Merlin's thigh for balance as he controlled the pace and depth of their fuck. His lips were parted, sinfully delicious sounds escaping them which Merlin just wanted to consume.

A part of him was vicious at the thought of someone else having heard his young lover like this, seen him, felt him.

But Merlin wasn't a fool, didn't expect Arthur to have remained his, especially not when he'd thought him dead.

Blackness pooled in his stomach yet the pleasure kept it at bay, his magic rejoicing within him, his cock tortured and weeping joy.

Arthur bucked his hips, twisting in a way which tore a cry from Merlin's lips as pleasure shot through him like lightning, threatening his control. "Only I can make you feel like this, Merlin."

It was true.

There'd always been pleasure, and yet no one could bring him to his knees like his Arthur.

And he finally admitted to himself that no one else ever would.

It would always only be Arthur for him.

"Your cock's twitching in me, I can feel it, feel how much it loves being in me." Pleasure was thick in his voice as Arthur's eyes darkened. "I missed this so damned much!" His grip on Merlin's thigh tightening painfully. "_Damn_ you for depriving me of what's _mine_ and whoring it out to others you idiot sorcerer. I'll never forgive you for that."

And there was the threatening, insulting boy he'd fallen in love with.

"Arthur..." Merlin's voice was a husky groan as he fought the urge to hold onto those hips and fuck up into him, fought to control himself, to allow Arthur to stay in charge.

Arthur opened his mouth, appearing far too defiant.

Merlin's hand found Arthur's jutting cock, wrapping around it as he gave an expert twist of his wrist.

Arthur proved his growing friendship with the Mercian knights by cursing quite colorfully, his eyes closing and betraying the slipping of not only his self-control, but his angry tirade. "...Merlin."

"Let go." Merlin worked his wrist, eyes flashing as his magic inside of the prince bubbled with energy.

Arthur cried out in response, bucking his hips frantically as his pleasure shot into the air.

He milked the young prince through his orgasm, groaning as Arthur's ass clenched around him tightly. The sorcerer took in Arthur's every expression, his every cry, and while the youth was still in his buzzed high Merlin had twirled them around so that Arthur's back rested against the ground and the sorcerer found himself nestled between those thighs.

Arthur reached for him as he curled his legs tighter around Merlin, lips brushing against his as Merlin began to move within him.

Merlin kissed Arthur languidly as he fucked into him, relishing the journey deep within and nearly crying with every near withdrawal. He pushed in home hilt deep with every buck of his hips, wanting to bury himself so deep within his lover that they'd become one and never have to separate again.

But with the threat of the Morrigna looming over them, he knew that time was drawing to a close, knew that their message meant he'd be parted from Arthur for forever.

The Morrigna signaled war, chaos, and death...and considering those whom the goddesses were showing their omens to had his magic within them, Merlin could only interpret it as the foretelling of his own death. And if he was going to die, he refused to deny himself his little prince anymore. He'd sate himself in his beloved until his time arrived.

With that assurance, and Arthur's legs wrapped tightly around him, Merlin came deep within the young prince, kissing him desperately.

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_Emrys..._

_Emrys..._

_EMRYS_...

Gasping, Merlin shot up in Arthur's bed, where he'd finally fallen asleep many hours later. By his side, Arthur slept peacefully, a serene smile on his face. But Merlin couldn't concentrate on this, images seen through Mordred's eyes flashing through his own, of the youth surrounded in the darkness by armed knights in Camelot red. He could feel the injured, tiredness from Mordred, the worry, the realization that he wouldn't be able to fight them all off.

Rising rapidly from the bed, Merlin headed towards the window and stared out of it, watching the flashes through Mordred's eyes...this connection only thanks to his magic in Mordred and the adrenaline and danger the young druid was in at the moment.

The knights charged.

Merlin sent his magic through the link, lending the druid strength.

Mordred sensed it immediately and yelled, the force of the magic within his voice sending knights flying back violently. Some impaled themselves on branches of nearby trees, others were trampled underfoot by their terrified horses, and yet others fell into a nearby river and were unable to rise up from it.

Safety returned.

Gratitude shot to Merlin through his link to Mordred, as the young druid snapped the reigns of his own horse, racing away, his attackers dead.

_Be careful, Mordred_. Merlin sent through their link while the connect was still open, already feeling it closing up.

It closed before the druid could send a message back.

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"I think it is best if the Queen doesn't learn of this." Cassius announced the next morning as Merlin convened with him over the matter. "She's growing incredibly weak, and if my medicine doesn't start showing any effect I may have need for some of your potions."

Merlin frowned, folding his arms over his chest as he leaned his hip against the table. "What I do not understand is what is happening. My magic is within her, it should be keeping her stronger than she is now."

"I believe your magic is what's keep her as strong as she is now, it's giving a boost to the natural druidic magic within her, and that worries me." Cassius came closer, lowering his voice, almost as if afraid to be overheard. "We must consider that there are unnatural elements keeping her this ill."

"I'd feel it if someone spelled her again." Merlin shook his head.

"Until we know the true magnitude of the power Ambrosius Aurelianus has on his side, we cannot rule anything out." Cassius reached out and placed his hand on Merlin's shoulder. "If she gets any weaker I fear for both her and the child."

"I won't let anything happen to them." Merlin hissed. "Our king would not survive the grief of not only losing yet another wife, but a child as well."

"I will continue to run more tests and keep you posted as to her health, but Merlin, if she gets worse we will have to inform the king."

Merlin nodded, frowning. "Let's just make it so that that it doesn't come to that."

Cassius nodded in agreement.

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"You know, I'm beginning to feel neglected."

He'd been crossing the armory on his way from Cassius' back to his tower and to be truthful hadn't been paying attention to his surroundings, so the voice had caught him off-guard.

Merlin stopped and turned to see young Joffrey leaning in the doorway, eyebrow raised and arms folded over his chest.

"At first it was intriguing, your so-called abstinence...which we all knew to be a fraud." The young yet capable knight declared casually. "And then it was a game to try and figure whom it was who has found favor now that dear ol' Mordred is finally out of the picture...and yet _now_ I'm starting to feel _annoyed_."

Merlin had spelled Arthur to not feel discomfort from their vigorous loving the night before, and knew that without the prince limping the others would still continue assuming that Arthur wasn't his lover.

"The whole kingdom knows your hunger is insatiable, so why don't I help you?" Joffrey smirked, gaze lowering to Merlin's crotch before raising to his eyes once more.

"Thank you for your willingness to help," Merlin had always found Joffrey's cheekiness a reminder of Arthur, which had both turned him on and given him bone-crushing nostalgia. "But for the moment my hunger is sated."

He left, mind already consumed with thoughts of the Queen's condition.

He failed to notice the young knight glaring at his back before storming back into the armory.

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"King Simon and a portion of his army are headed this way."

Merlin looked up from the tome he'd been studying, frowning at Lancelot as the knight hurried up the rest of the steps, entering the tower. "What?"

"Would he be foolish enough to try and attack us all on his own with only half of his army?" Lancelot wanted to know as he strode towards the desk, his every muscle tense. "Sir Percival doesn't think so, but Prince Arthur thinks he might."

"Simon is no fool." Merlin shook his head, sure of this. "He must have something planned."

"Out of anyone in Northumbria you are the one with most knowledge about the man and the way his mind works." Lancelot sighed as he sat down, staring at Merlin in determination. "Our king wishes for us to leave you out of any War Talks and Strategies despite the fact that you have a cunning mind and foresight, and while I wish to obey Our King in all things I cannot help but wonder _why_ he wishes for you to be removed from the talks." Lancelot's brown gaze went to the tomes on Merlin's desk before returning to him. "Are you on special assignment?"

He allowed himself a nod and only that, knowing it was all the knight needed.

"I figured as much." Lancelot sighed, giving a shake of his enviable hair. "But even so, King Simon and Northumbria have been nothing but a wild card thus far and before we make any plans I think it prudent to consult you on these matters."

Closing the tome before him, Merlin observed his once lover and now friend, thoughtful. "Arthur told me once that while still a prince, Simon informed him that had he been king, he would have sided with Mercia in the war."

A curious light lit in those brown gaze. "Do you think he seeks an alliance?"

"I would not count on it...but I wouldn't discredit the notion either." Merlin steepled his fingers together. "It could accunt for the fact that he is travelling with half of his men, leaving the other half guarding his own castle, which is on our border and thus close enough to return to should there be an attack."

"An alliance with Northumbria would be a great asset in this war. It is a large and powerful kingdom." Lancelot rubbed his chin as he thought. "With Caerleon, Escetia and Northumbria...we might have a chance." He frowned. "And from the little that I remember of the Northumbrian monarch, he was one to see opportunities and take advantage of them."

Merlin had to agree, nodding. "Be sure that if it's an alliance he is after, that there will be conditions put in place. Simon is not like Gawaine and his father...this will not be a matter of loyalty."

Lancelot sighed, leaning hard back against his chair. "And I assume Prince Arthur wouldn't be too pleased should you work your wiles on King Simon as you did once before."

Merlin's lips twitched. "Cassius can't keep a secret from you."

"He found Prince Arthur in your chambers the other night, and while that _was_ a very obvious clue...the prince's demeanor is truly the dead giveaway. Especially today. He _glows_." Lancelot was truly too amused with this. "I know that the rest of the fellows believe that since he can walk straight you're not the reason for his utterly cheery mood...but I know better."

"You know, until Mordred's departure I never realized how my sexual life was such a constant source of rumor and speculation amongst the castle." Merlin raised an eyebrow. "One would think that with our being on the brink of war that there would be more important and interesting topics to converse about with one's peers."

"On the contrary, Merlin, talking about your usually very active sex life helps maintain a sense of normalcy and keeps the people from truly realizing what is ahead...and panicking." As always, Lancelot was too wise for everyone's good.

Merlin thought over all that his friend had shared with him, and he couldn't help but wonder. "If you were in my situation, what would you do?"

"You mean concerning King Simon and Prince Arthur?" Lancelot, of course, went to the heart of the matter directly. "My friend, in that I cannot offer a comment for while I love Cassius, he and I do not share the bond you and Prince Arthur do."

"Bond?" Merlin frowned over the word, thinking of the way his magic had bonded with Arthur and become one with the prince...and yet still a part of Merlin as well.

"Despite lies and deception, despite differences in stations, despite being on opposite sides of a war, the two of you still find your way back towards each other no matter what obstacle is placed before you." Lancelot replied sagely, seeming far too old at that moment. "I don't know how to better explain it but that the two of you share a bond that seems to tether one to the other. It is very unMercian...and yet it is...for while Arthur would not share you...even if it were for your mutual pleasure. He has this dark glint in his eyes that promises pain to those who desire you." Lancelot's lips twitched in amusement as he leaned forwards. "To be frank, and keep it between us since Sir Percival and I have noticed this and while we have commented it amongst ourselves we haven't confronted him about it, but Prince Arthur gives a harder time during training to those he's confirmed as your past lovers."

Merlin leaned back in his seat, surprised by this revelation.

"He especially gives Joffrey a hard time, not that I blame him." Lancelot chuckled, shaking his head. "The boy's an able fighter, but his parents spoiled him too much. He's very entitled. Sometimes forgets he is a subordinate. Even Sir Percival admits to the desire to knock the boy over the head sometimes." He turned his gaze to Merlin. "What is it with you and boys with far too much attitude for their own good?"

"I'm a masochist," Merlin shrugged.

"Bollocks." Lancelot surprised him by scoffing. "If there's anyone who's a masochist it's Prince Arthur."

Merlin smiled softly at the thought of the loud, obnoxious, determined boy...and his heart hurt as he realized that he had very short time with him. "Lancelot, if anything should happen to me..."

"No." Lancelot frowned, all traces of amusement gone in a second as he frowned. "Whatever it is you were about to ask me I refuse, because nothing will happen to you."

"But if it does-." Merlin tried.

"Is there something you've not told us?" Lancelot narrowed his brown gaze, alert and sharp as ever. "You never speak of your own mortality."

The young wizard hesitated a moment, pondering exactly what to tell his friend.

"Merlin, you _are_ hiding something, are you not?" Lancelot leaned forwards. "Are you ill?"

With a sigh, Merlin turned to his friend and told him about his magic within Arthur, within Morgana, and the threefold message from the Morrigna, which was backed up by his mother's own warnings.

Lancelot listened in silence, face impassive, before finally leaning back against the chair in deep thought. "It does not mean it is you, my friend."

"It is the most likely answer." Merlin frowned. "I, and the people wherein dwells some of my magic, are receiving the message. It has to be for me."

"The message is most definitely meant for you...but is there anything in the message itself that says that it means _you_ will the be the one to fall?" Lancelot's question was a good one, the man's brain as sharp as his sword. "This is a warning of death, and yet it doesn't mean yours. They could be receiving it because of your magic and not because it's foretelling your death." Lancelot's expression was grave. "Someone important will die soon, that much is certain." He leaned forwards, brown gaze meeting Merlin's. "The question we must ask ourselves is: _who_."

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Merlin had to admit that at the thought of himself dying he'd found that he'd resigned himself to the fate and had planned to enjoy the remainder of his days with Arthur while preparing and leaving things so that when he'd die the prince, and Mercia, would have a greater chance of winning the war. But now that the doubt had been planted in his mind that someone else might die, the resignation was gone, replaced by nagging doubt and all-consuming worry. What if it was either Arthur or the Queen who'd be the ones to die? Or the both of them? Was that the real reason why they were seeing the omens? Or what if it was the young heir like the Queen feared? Or the king? Or Mordred? Or what if it were someone else utterly unexpected?

The sorcerer couldn't allow any of those options, and he locked himself in the tower for the next few days, not even allowing Arthur entrance due to the fact that the blonde was a sinful distraction and Merlin couldn't afford anything of the sort. Merlin divided his time between researching his King's quest, and finding all he could about the Morrigna, and cases in history in which they'd appeared...their omens signaling the death of someone important, and of bloody wars which tore kingdoms apart. Fathers turned against sons, and brothers against each other. The Morrigna's appearance now that another war was in the horizon filled Merlin's soul with despair and fear.

Guinevere was the only one he allowed entrance into the tower (as king Bayard had yet to make an appearance), and the young servant tsked motherly, bringing him his food, enquiring on his health, and informing him with nervous stutters of all of the threats that Arthur had ordered she deliver. The poor girl was always bright red by the time she'd finish delivering each one on a quivering breath, wringing her hands nervously in front of her. She was all sorts of cute.

"He says that he refuses to leave unless you let him in." Guinevere stammered, gazing nervously towards the stairs before returning her dark gaze to Merlin. "Says he'll spend the night on the hard, cold floor outside your door where anyone can come up and stab him while he sleeps."

The distress was quite obvious on her face.

"That's somewhat melodramatic, don't you think?" Merlin didn't know if he was more amused or annoyed by this situation.

"I know this is not my place, Grand Court Sorcerer, but-."

"Please, Guinevere, speak your mind." Merlin shook his head. "The gods know Arthur has made this your affair."

She appeared more distressed, clasping her hands tightly. "It's not safe for P-Prince Arthur to sleep outside your door. He still has people in this castle who don't particularly c-care for him-not that I am accusing s-someone of-!"

Unable to watch the poor girl nearly hyperventilate with worry, Merlin stopped her in mid-ramble. "You are a loyal woman, Guinevere. It is a very admirable and attractive quality."

She looked up at him and blushed, eyes wide.

With every conversation they had, Merlin understood more and more how his Queen could have such a soft spot for this girl. "On your way out please inform His Royal Pratness that he may come up."

Guinevere smiled brightly and curtsied. "Thank you!" And with that she hurried and descended the steps.

Shaking his head, Merlin sighed as he stood and closed his tomes, beginning to put them away, resigning himself to the fact that he wouldn't be getting more work done that night. If anything, his next couple of hours would be watching Arthur pace back and forth, and listen to the young prince scold him for 'daring' to ignore and keep him out these last couple of days and nights.

"_Mer_-lin, I think you owe me an explanation." Arthur announced as he hurried up the stairs, taking two steps at the same time. "First you come to my room and we don't sleep until early morning, and then you lock me out of your tower and avoid me for _days_!" He cleared the last step and frowned as he gazed around him before resting that critical glance on the wizard himself. "Have you been eating? You've lost weight." His annoyance melted into worry as he eyed Merlin better. "Have you even been sleeping? You look _terrible_."

Merlin opened his mouth.

"I told Guinevere to force you to eat everything on your plate and not let you work until you had...she obviously didn't do that." Arthur frowned.

Merlin folded his arms over his chest, realizing he wasn't going to be able to get a word in edgewise.

"I knew it, I _knew_ you'd be some decrepit, gangly mess of skin and bones if you were left to your own devices." Arthur apparently seemed to be talking to himself, shaking his head. "I'm going to get you something to eat."

And with that Arthur turned and left.

Merlin paused, digesting the quick turn of events, before chuckling as he ran a hand through his hair.

When was Arthur going to stop leaving him so unbalanced?

And if he truly wasn't going to die...did he trust himself to continue what he'd started with the prince? To have what he'd wanted and be able to let Arthur go should the time ever come? Or would the demon half of him refuse to part from the prince once more? Or worse yet, what if the _human_ side refused?

Feeling incredibly _vulnerable_ and not liking it, Merlin busied himself with putting away the tomes and scrolls, making a space on the table for the tray he knew Arthur would be bringing ladened down with a ridiculous amount of food that both he and the cook would expect Merlin to finish.

The sadists.

Lips twitching in a crooked smile, Merlin collapsed onto his seat and leaned forwards over the table, contemplating life, love, and other mysteries.

Like how exactly was it that he was the all-powerful wizard...and yet Arthur had the _true_ power in this relationship.

He was still contemplating this question of questions when Arthur returned with the expected overflowing tray of food, resting it on the cleared table and staring at Merlin expectantly.

"You are forbidden to ever ban my access to your tower again." He informed Merlin as he sat on his seat, face serious. "You do not know how to take care of yourself and everyone else is either too busy dealing with the War Preparations, or too timid, to sit you down and make you eat." He shook his head, deeply annoyed. "How many times do I have to tell you that you're no good to this war, or King Bayard, if you're dead? You'd think an all-powerful wizard wouldn't be so idiotic and would understand something so _obvious_."

Attitude.

Insults.

And yet they did a poor job of masking the worry beneath annoyance and frustration.

Arthur wasn't so much annoyed at having been locked out (although Merlin knew that he was very frustrated by that) as he was worried about Merlin, was looking after him in his own abrupt, forceful way.

Merlin didn't doubt that King Bayard, Lancelot, Cassius, and his few inner circle cared about him in their own ways, but none of them had made the effort Arthur had to make sure that he was fine, that he was eating, sleeping, that he wasn't driving himself into the ground with his research and work. None of them came to check up on him unless it had something to do with the war efforts. None. No one other than Arthur.

A lump grew in Merlin's throat as he gazed at the prince.

Arthur shifted uncomfortably under the intense observation. "I didn't haul that heavy thing all the way up here so you could let it get cold you know."

Merlin didn't respond, didn't move, his blue gaze resting on his young lover.

The golden haired boy met his glance head on, challenging, not understanding what exactly was going on yet refusing to back down.

"I'm going to ask you a question which I do not want you to be insulted by," Merlin finally spoke, gaze caressing his little prince.

"That wouldn't be ominous." The heir of Camelot mumbled to himself.

"Why do you still care for me? Why do you care _at all_?" Merlin asked the question that'd been burning in his soul for oh so long. "You were my prisoner, my _slave_. We didn't have a romanticized fairy tale. You were with me against your will."

Arthur was silent, his face going blank.

"Once you were back in Camelot, heir and free, why care if I was dead? That your _captor_ was dead?" Merlin observed everything, alert, refusing to miss any little reaction. "Why would you care if I took Mordred as my _willing _lover in your place? Shouldn't you have been happy to have gotten rid of him, and with him the last reminder to your mother of your father's infidelities? You had the freedom to have your lovers, to choose your life, your destiny." He leaned forwards, intent. "Why do you look after me? Why do you continue to do so when no one else does?"

Arthur watched him for a moment before sneering, shaking his head. "You really _are_ an idiot."

Merlin's lips twitched as he leaned back once more. "And you are an enigma I cannot understand no matter how hard I try." He tilted his head to the side. "I forced you, at the beginning, I was no better than _Valiant_. You hate him." There was a pause. "Why not me?"

"What does it matter?" The exiled prince hedged.

"Because it does." Merlin responded carefully. "You used to try and kill me every night...why do you now go out of your way to make sure that I am well?"

"You weren't like Valiant." Arthur muttered, the words seeming to be dragged out of him forcefully, his arms folding over his chest as a muscle jumped in his cheek. "Valiant had me beaten and then had his friends pin me to the ground while he tore my clothes off, kicking and punching me when I struggled to defend myself."

Merlin fought against the anger and revulsion at the imagery.

"You spoke softly to me, you explained how and why you were doing what you did, and that it wouldn't hurt. Did I want it at first? No. Was I scared in the beginning? Of course. After Valiant's attack I was terrified to be near a man, especially if he were Mercian. I thought you all were _monsters_." Arthur's gaze finally slid away from Merlin, obviously terribly uncomfortable with the conversation they were having. "You never scared me personally though, and while I struggled at first you put an end to that the second your hand found my cock and the other wrapped around me to press against my beating heart, whispering for me to calm down, that you would never hurt me." Arthur took in a deep breath. "I believed you. Only the gods know _why_ considering what you were in the midst of doing to me...but somehow...somehow I _knew_ you wouldn't hurt me. And you didn't. On the contrary." His lips twitched in a sardonic smile. "I despised myself for a while...because how much I loved it."

Merlin remained silent, observing every facial twitch, every breath.

"I felt if I killed you it could exonerate my previous, wanton, _shameless_ behavior. In Camelot we are taught to find the idea of being bedded by another male repulsive and humiliating, as the worst form of degradation...and yet I'd cum with your cock lodged deep inside me...and whenever I'd think back to it while I was alone in your bedroom I'd grow hard in want." Arthur shifted in his seat. "I wanted _more_. I hated myself and I hated you for it."

"You should have hated me. You should _hate_ me."

"I probably should have, but instead I grew fascinated with my enemy." Arthur's gaze returned to Merlin's finally, determined. "Your magic worked while you slept, it cleaned the place, kept the fire going...I'd never even seen Nimueh able to perform unconscious magic like that. And you were a Mercian, you were my sworn enemy, and yet you were patient with me, listened to my verbal abuse without retaliation-not even whenever I tried my many fruitless assassination plots." He shook his head at the memory. "I remember after the first failed attempt I was sure that that was it, that you'd kill me and be done with it. And yet you asked me if I was _okay_. Said that your magic had reacted on its own...you were worried that its throwing me into the bedpost had hurt me." Arthur sat up straighter. "Mere seconds after I'd tried stabbing you, you were searching me for _wounds_. You were _shaking_."

"You could have been hurt and not realized it due to the rush of adrenaline in your system." Merlin defended his past actions.

Arthur chuckled as he ducked his head for a second before raising his gaze once more. "You were a horrible villain, Merlin. You gave me anything I wanted, tolerated any abuse I sent your way, and then brought me to the brink of pleasure so intense I'd nearly blank out." He tilted his head to the side. "It was not long before I realized that I wasn't being treated like your sex slave, but like your lover. And that...that did a number on me when I first realized it...and then...and then I just let myself enjoy it."

Merlin tilted his head to the side, eyeing his prince.

"And when Gawaine of Caerleon arrived I knew somehow that my time as your slave was coming to an end...and I realized I didn't want to go back home." Arthur's guilt was obvious on his face, unable to look in Merlin's direction. "My parents were probably worried to death thinking that I was going through hell at the hands of my captors-and yet not only was I living the life of a spoilt mistress, but I didn't want to _go_."

Merlin frowned, shock racing through his system.

"And then I thought you'd died, that you'd been killed...because of _me_." Arthur rose from his seat, obviously extremely uncomfortable by now. "I hated everyone. I hated you for dying, Nimueh for delivering the death blow, my father for initiating the war, Bayard for having been your sovereign, and Emrys, The King's Butcher, for thinking he could replace you." Arthur gave him his back as he went to look out of the window at the moon, leaning forwards on the windowsill. "But most of all I hated myself. You'd died because of _me_."

Standing, Merlin slowly made his way towards the prince.

Arthur tightened his grip on the windowsill. "Maybe I should hate you Merlin...but I do not. I never did and I never will...despite how idiotic and trying you can be on my patience."

A chuckle escaped Merlin's lips as he reached Arthur's side, resting his hands on Arthur's hips as he pressed a kiss to the curve of Arthur's neck.

A shiver raced down Arthur's body before he leaned back into Merlin's embrace, gaze never leaving the stars above. "I'm not a man to speak of my emotions freely, Merlin, count yourself lucky and be aware that I will never say any of this again."

"It need only be said once." Merlin whispered against his skin, nibbling his way up Arthur's neck.

The young prince let out a sound that was half sigh half groan as he shifted his hips, rubbing his ass against Merlin's hardness.

Tightening his grip on Arthur's hips, Merlin pulled him in harder, pressing his cock against the cleft of his ass. He gave a slow thrust, teeth biting in deeper on that neck as his fingers dug into lean hips.

Reaching up behind him, Arthur slid his fingers through Merlin's dark locks, tightening his hold and urging the warlock to continue as he tilted his neck, granting better access.

The young prince had opened up to Merlin completely, in a way he never had before to him...and probably had never opened up to anyone else either...and Merlin wanted to reciprocate verbally as well. For the first time he cursed having vowed his loyalty to Bayard, having tied himself to another man, another kingdom, for the rest of his life. For a split second he wished he'd been born in Camelot, that he'd grown up King Uther's ward, side by side with Arthur. Even if nothing had ever happened between them due to their differences in stations, or for any other reason, he would have still been able to be Arthur's in one way. His Grand Court Sorcerer.

And yet even if the war was won, even if Arthur took over Camelot, even if they had a true alliance...Merlin knew Bayard's dreams, his goals.

He knew he could never be truly Arthur's.

And it burnt his soul.

So the fiery need within him mixed with a bitter frustration as Merlin pressed Arthur against the window, teeth lodged into his neck as with a mixture of magic and physical brutality he disposed of Arthur's trousers, the tarnish material gliding to the ground as Merlin freed himself. With one hand on Arthur's back he urged him to bend forwards as the warlock lined himself with that heat, a flash of gold preparing his prince before he slid in hilt-deep.

Gripping the windowsill tightly, back arching, Arthur groaned as his eyes darkened, pressing into the intimate hold.

The courtyard was dark below them, and although apparently empty anyone passing by could spy their activity should they gaze upwards, and yet neither seemed to care as Merlin began to move. In fact, the warlock hoped people saw, that they _knew_ Arthur was _his_. Some animalistic side of him, the darker half which he was only willing to accept when it came to its feelings towards Arthur, wanted to claim its mate in front of the whole of Mercia...of _Albion_.

Draping himself over Arthur's back, Merlin laid kisses on Arthur's neck as his hands rested upon Arthur's on the windowframe, their fingers threading slightly as he fucked slowly into the young prince. Arthur clenched around him warm and needy, meeting each languid thrust with a roll of his hips. Eyes flashing gold heralded magic snaking its way up Arthur's legs to wrap around his hard cock, teasing, sliding against and setting him even more on fire. The magic within them ignited, leaving skin covered with goosebumps and lips parted in twin, hoarse cries.

"Whoever he is...leave him..." Arthur whispered, the words demanding and yet the tone a whimper.

"Arthur..." Merlin pressed deep inside, keeping them joined as he whispered into the prince's ear. "The only one I have touched since Mordred's departure is _you_."

"Don't even _say_ his name." Arthur snarled, moving his hips harder, fucking himself on that cock almost angrily.

Silently Merlin moved his hand and placed it over Arthur's beating heart, finding it matching his own perfectly.

Arthur placed his hand over Merlin's and left it there until minutes later when Merlin came within him, and his own pleasure spurted against the wall.

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Eyes flying open, Merlin gasped awake, finding himself naked on Arthur's bed, the blonde sleeping with a leg lopped over his and his head resting over Merlin's heart. This should be a time of comfort and tranquility, of indulging in such sweet pleasure as being able to sleep by Arthur's side, and yet Merlin's magic had awoken him in terror, alert, and the wizard knew that something very bad was happening. He narrowed his eyes, trying to sense out what it was, wondering what was happening given the fact that the warnings hadn't been sounded.

They couldn't have been besieged during the night but-.

Merlin's eyes widened as suddenly he knew what was happening. "Arthur!"

Arthur groaned sleepily.

"Arthur wake up!" Merlin hissed, shaking the prince before slipping out quickly from under him, grabbing his trousers and slipping them on as he headed towards the door.

"What is it?" Arthur was awake, voice sleepy yet wary.

"Get dressed and bring your sword." Merlin threw his door opened.

Arthur's eyes widened as all sleep left, and he threw himself out of the bed, reaching for his sword.

Knowing that Arthur would catch up with him, Merlin sounded the alarm, the castle lighting up and ringing a banshee scream sure to wake up even the dead.

"To the King's chambers!" Merlin projected the message to the four corners of the castle, the charms already placed all over the castle amplifying the call. "We're being attacked!"

As the wizard hurried to Bayard's chambers, he magically felt for the protections placed on the castle, trying to find a reason why the protection could have been penetrated...and what he found out chilled his blood.

Reaching the doors to the king's chambers, Merlin found the knights and guards trying to force them open, and yet the doors were shut.

"Out of my way." He growled, and the second the men scrambled away his eyes flashed gold, blowing the doors open as he stepped inside, the knights and guards rushing in after him.

There, on the bed, the King and Queen were in suspended animation, faces contorted in horror.

"My King!" A couple of the knights rushed forwards.

"Stay where you are." Merlin's voice was calm.

The men, despite their desire to rush to their king's aid, did as told.

Golden eyes searched the darkness of the room before raising to the ceiling, the gold going molten.

Suddenly the shadows of the ceiling swirled and shot down in a pillar of black, forming the figure of a man. "I'm impressed. You found me quicker than Sigan." He sneered. "Probably why you're still alive and he's not."

Escetia.

He'd been in Escetia.

"What have you done to King Cenred and Queen Morgause you fiend?" Sir Percival snarled as he drew his sword.

The newcomer just smirked. "Let us say that the Pendragon line is dwindling rapidly, and soon it will be completely destroyed...save my master of course."

"You will not leave here alive." Lancelot promised, sword drawn as well.

"Will I?" With a movement of his hand, the King and Queen were released from their spelled state, the horror obvious on their faces as they huddled together on the bed. "I can snap their necks with a snap of my fingers."

"Leave them be." Arthur moved through the parted crowd of warriors, joining Merlin, sword glistening in the candlelight.

"Ah yes, the Pendragon prince." The man sneered. "I missed you in Camelot."

Arthur's body trembled with his rage. "You killed my mother and father."

"And if it hadn't been for that meddling witch, I would have killed you as well." He nodded. "Will this wizard die saving you as well?"

Arthur snapped, going towards the wizard.

"Arthur stop it!" Merlin snapped, using his magic to push the stranger against the opposite wall before Arthur could fall into his trap.

The newcomer chuckled as he picked himself up, turning towards the bed.

Arthur closed the distance between him and the bed, placing himself in between the Queen and the enemy.

Merlin could see the shock on Morgana's expression at this act on her half-brother's part.

"I have to say...I always thought Mercia would be more interesting than Escetia." The man declared before turning to Merlin and smirking. "Happy hunting." And with that he drew his cloak to himself, becoming a dark shadow and racing out of the chambers through the open window and out into the night.

"I take it we've finally met Ambrosius Aurelianus' wizard." Lancelot frowned, still holding his sword at the ready.

"I must ride to Escetia." Sir Percival turned and hurried away, his men following.

"_Bayard_?" Morgana's cry caused them to turn their attention to where their king lay prone on his bed, lifeless. "**Bayard**!"

Merlin hurried to his king's side. "Give him space!" He leaned over the elderly man, checking for a pulse, for a heartbeat. There wasn't any. "_No_." Merlin placed his hand over the still heart, his magic sending jolts into it, causing the king's body to jerk. "Come on!" Another jolt. "Don't do this!" Another jolt. "Dammit Bayard!" Another jolt. "Fight!"

The spirit left Bayard's body and joined his ancestors.

"No." Morgana whispered, eyes wide in horror as Merlin collapsed to his knees. "_No_."

"His heart couldn't take it." Merlin felt broken and boneless as he sat on his knees, staring at his ashen king, numbness taking over.

"_No_!" Morgana cried, leaning over her husband. "You don't have the permission to die on me! You can't do this! Not now! You selfish-!" She collapsed over his body, crying.

Arthur turned to Lancelot. "The Queen needs privacy to mourn the King."

Lancelot nodded, visibly shook and saddened, yet strong. "I will double the watch." He turned to his men. "Come now."

The men filed out of the room in mournful silence.

Guinevere stood by the now closed door, eyes filled with tears.

Arthur turned towards the bed, silent, anger burning in his blue orbs.

Merlin just stared at his King and Queen, guilt and horror bubbling within him.

He'd wanted to be free from his pledge to Bayard not two hours ago...and now the king, and his hold over Merlin, were gone.

The wizard brought a hand to his heart as he ducked his head and cried.

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Cassius and Guinevere remained with the Queen, trying to calm her, reminding her of her own weakness and the child which she carried within her.

Sir Percival and his men had already gathered their horses and enough supplies to last them till they reached Escetia, the words of the sorcerer having filled them with terror as to the fate of their kingdom and king.

In the War Room Merlin, Arthur and Lancelot were locked in, magic keeping their words indistinguishable to those outside the doors.

"Word will reach the other kingdoms that our king has died and they will believe us weak for it." Lancelot spoke what they all knew. "This will strengthen their resolve and they'll attack with all their force."

"We'll be ready for them." Arthur slammed his hands down on the table upon which they'd agonized over their war strategies. "If Escetia has truly been hit then the remainder of its people and knights will find solace in Mercia, and will have the same intense hatred and need for vengeance that we exiles of Camelot do. It is this fury which will give us a drive, a will to fight, to win. Greed drives our enemies. Vengeance is stronger than greed."

"I sent word to Caerleon just in case they might be in danger as well." Lancelot revealed, folding his arms over his chest. "But what I would like to know is how that sorcerer managed to make it into this castle, into the king and queen's chambers." Darkness entered his eyes as they rested on Merlin. "Is he so strong he can override your protections?"

"I do not know that, but I what I _do_ know with certainty is that there's a traitor in our midst." Merlin replied, causing both Arthur and Lancelot's eyes to wide in horror and disbelief. "When I made my way to the king's chambers my magic searched out my protections, wondering the same thing. But upon investigation I realized that several of my anchors had either been tampered with or destroyed."

"It cannot be." Lancelot whispered, pale in horror. "One of our own?"

"We need to conduct a search, immediately!" Arthur snapped, banging his fist onto the table.

"No. We won't tell anyone about this." Merlin narrowed his eyes, raising his hand to stop both Lancelot and Arthur when they started to protest. "If we let this news out people will turn on each other, Mercians will point towards those who have been exiled from Camelot, while those from Camelot will point to Mercia or Escetia instead. It will tear us apart, making us even weaker than we already are, and that's exactly what your uncle wants." Merlin leaned down against the table, gazing at the Head Knight and the exiled Prince. "We will let the spy think he or she has escaped detection, and with the belief of being safe the person will grow sloppy...and when that happens I _will_ find out who it is. Until then we continue the way we always have. We will bury our king, mourn his loss, and prepare to protect his kingdom. We ensure his legacy is passed down to his child."

Lancelot nodded, hand on the hilt of his sword.

"We cannot let the other kingdoms see our loss as a weakness. They need to see us as strong even without our king and leader." Merlin stood tall. "They need to be reminded as to _why_ Mercia is considered the fiercest, bloodthirsty kingdom in Albion."

Arthur finally nodded, face passive and yet eyes unable to hide the vicious anger, the need to be avenged, that burned deep within.

Sensing his magical charms activating, Merlin went towards the balcony and gazed out, seeing in the distance the light of lanterns as King Simon's men appeared over the crest of a hill outside of the castle walls.

Lancelot and Arthur joined him on each side, gazing silently at the approaching multitude.

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**Review?**


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